


Deadpool and Harry's Magical Adventures

by Withmaximumeffort



Series: Harry Potter and His Dimension Hopping Adventures [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 14:28:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20602310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withmaximumeffort/pseuds/Withmaximumeffort
Summary: Magical adventures of one Deadpool and his Harry Potter (or really it's Harry and his Deadpool)





	1. Story #1: Meet and Greet

**Author's Note:**

> Kay so I’m taking some serious creative liberties here. In this, it’s been 6 years since the first Deadpool movie.
> 
> 3 years after the death of his wife. In NY when the aliens arrive Harry shows up as well.
> 
> teehee

It was 3 years to the day that Vanessa died and it still hurt. But now, it was more like a stab wound to the abdomen from last week and less like he was gangbanged with multiple sandpaper dildos 5 mins ago. His missing Vanessa shaped jigsaw piece was starting to smooth around the edges and wasn’t so jagged. Still hurt, but nowhere near as much. Wade remembered when the hole in his soul felt like a weird tentacle monster with teeth, so here’s to progress and all that jazz. 

It was the height of irony. Fate had to be feeling extra PMSy when she created Wade's and Vanessa's fates. Vanessa was too vibrant a soul to die of something like breast cancer. Watching her waste away slowly killed Wade a little more each day that she was suffering. How fucked up was it, that he had entered a secret government experiment to escape his disease only for Vanessa to die of the same thing he was trying to avoid. It was to be expected. She passed painlessly in the end doped to her ears in morphine, which is all Wade could ask for. 

Still felt like shit.

However, to add to the shitty feeling on this shitty day, the sky decided to shit weird alien creature monster things right on New York City. The damn things were ugly (and Wade was definitely an authority on all things ugly. Looking in the mirror still made him jump, dive, and aim a gun at his reflection if he didn’t do the necessary pep talk beforehand) and they just kept pouring out of a black hole in the sky like the universe’s form of diarrhea. Maybe the universe should take some Lomotil or get with the BRAT diet and clean that shit up ‘cause today was not the day honey...Sometimes the Blind Al in him came out when he was feeling particularly pissed off. Like now.

These alien bitches had messed with his day of sorrow and celebrating the magical unicorn life that was Vanessa Wilson aka Mrs. Deadpool. So right now, the awesomely spandexed Deadpool was running and jumping on alien flight machines, chopping heads and generally fucking shit up when all he really wanted to do was listen to Wham! (although that Niall Horan song wasn’t too bad for the occasion) and eat his Sicilian Pistachio and his Salted Caramel Gelato (Talenti Gelato for the win motherfuckers!) until he passed out. It was a shit situation on a shit day and there’d be no surviving metal monster thingies by the time Deadpool was through. He applauded himself when he stabbed an alien in the face causing it to fire at one of the small piloted flying contraptions causing the piloted flying contraption to crash into another piloted flying contraption before they exploded into a shower of metal pieces. One of said pieces flew straight into the face of a flying whale thing which caused it to crash into another flying whale thing and crash to the ground, falling on at least 100 of it’s ugly alien friends.

Man, give props where props were due. Deadpool was damn good, Deadpool knew it and knew how to show it.

“9 oclock!” Deadpool spun, dove to the ground and fired on instinct to his direct left nailing an alien right between its beady little eyes. Damn, military training was damn near impossible to escape.

The weapon the thing had been carrying misfired, barely missed his right ear as Deadpool rolled to the left. Holy Sweet Flying Buttered Biscuits that was close!!!! It took Fucking Forever to grow back a head and that pulse weapon (Oooh Deadpool wants Deadpool will definitely take at least 3) would have obliterated one poor little Wade-noggin if he hadn’t thrown himself to the ground. BTWs who yelled the warning? Was it the voice in his head? It _had _been showing up more lately. Props where props were do again, even if it was a disembodied voice. Wait, no, there were sounds of someone walking over the rubble. Good, it was a real person. The talking voices hadn’t taken over yet.

“Um thanks. That would not have been fun to come back from. Man these things are ugly. Those creatures look like Freddy Kreuger, The Mummy and a T-Rex decided making a baby together was the thing to do. And I thought I was hideous. Thanks a bun..whoa.”

Before him appeared an absolutely gorgeous man in a black t-shirt and black pants with a half apron wrapped around his waist. He had the greenest eyes staring like Deadpool was a hippopotamus in a tutu. 

“Come back from... You would be dead, one, and seriously what the fuck?”

Awwww a British accent. How cute. Oh. right. The immortal thing was still sorta secret from unknowns. Meh.

“Yeah. Right. Let’s go with that then.”

Green-eyes raised his eyebrow and continued to look like Deadpool had one too many concussions. That was true, but super healing worked wonders on big problems like stabs to the head so really, concussions were a non factor at this point.

“Right then. I’ll file that under ‘American Superhero Weirdos in Red Tights’ and be on my way.”

Oh, the way to Wade Wilson’s heart is dry wit and sarcasm.

“Yeah. You do that. Also, shoo. Go hide. Leave the saving to the heroes and go get your beautiful self to safety. Go on, go.”

The Brit snorted then smirked this little half crooked smile that made Wade want to coo and do the horizontal Argentine Tango and Rumba and Samba at the same time. Maybe get a couple chimichangas in bed afterwards.

“I assure you I’ll be just fine.”

Green-eyed Handsome then turned to the nearest large flying whale monster and stuck out an open palm. Deadpool watched as the thing crumpled in on itself as the hand closed into a fist. It then fell out of the sky and rolled to a stop right in front of Green Eyes like a building sized bowling ball. The other man nudged the metal ball with his foot before using two fingers to telekinetically (He  _ had _ to be a telekinetic) send the ball careening into another flying whale. 

It was probably widely inappropriate to have a boner right now.

It was also the only reaction that made sense in Wade Wilson’s head.

“Wow. I am so hard right now.”

Mister Sexy (probably should get a name by now) gaped and then burst into laughter.

“Still filed under American Superhero Weirdos, WTF.”

Again sarcasm makes the world go round and does hardening things to Little (BIG) Deadpool.

“Can I be your favorite? I can be your Deadpool. Actually, can you just marry me?”

The stranger just laughed again before turning back towards the chaos. There was an epic shift in the air that signified a major badass was about to throw shit down like nobody's business. 

“How about we get rid of the nasty flying aliens and we can talk about this later.”

“Oooh Pinky swear!! It’s a date.”

With that Deadpool flew into the battle with renewed vigor and his Vanessa shaped jigsaw piece smoothed out a little more.


	2. Harry and Deadpool Date Extravaganza Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the title states

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: No diggity by Blackstreet & Dr. Dre feat Queen Pen

Soooooo. The last time Deadpool had a first date it started off with a “Who had the shittiest life” competition which lead to arcade games galore (damn right!! And it was the funnest too), an awesome Voltron Defender of the Universe Ring, and some of the best sex he had all year. 

Soooooo. Deadpool’s not really sure where he should go with this new date. His mysterious cafe owning, sexy British accent having, crushing aliens with his bare hands doing, penis hardening date seemed a little more classy than a lovely night with skee ball. No offense Angel Mrs. Deadpool.

Soooooo. Deadpool was actually harassing the all important, badass extraordinaire, zen motherfucker that was Charles Xavier AKA Professor X for advice and Magneto by association because we all know what’s going on there hint hint wink wink pink elephants!!!

“But Charles-baby!! He’s like British and they like, have afternoon tea and dine with the Queen every Tuesday and shit.” 

Deadpool was kneeling in front Professor X with his elbows on the desk and his head propped in his hands, giving his best puppy-dog eyes….that couldn’t be seen because of the mask. Damn. What a waste of an expression. 

“You  _ are  _ aware that I’m also British? And I can assure you, that I do not dine with the Queen every Tuesday… only on special occasions.”

“But you have afternoon tea! And do you really dine with the queen? You’re fucking with me right? Fuck it, I believe it. ‘Cause you’re you. And who says assure? Fancy British people that’s who!! He said assure too!! Should I start using assure? Or am I not British enough to use assure? Why do words sound weird when you say them over and over again? Almighty X help me!!!” By this point Deadpool had shuffled around the desk on his knees and was holding the sacred, blessed hands of his savior.

Charles merely shook his head and smiled that calm, knowing smile that was really his shit-eating grin if you analyzed it correctly. Erik told him once that Charles used it for fucking with people when they were younger and when Charles had considerably more hair. Now, per Erik again, the professor mostly meant the serenity.

Deadpool begs to differ. 

Wade was getting more and more paranoid that the professor was smiling just to be creepy and was probably reading Wade’s mind. The professor smiled a little wider, crinkles forming deeper on the sides of his eyes. Yeah, Wade saw how the professor controlled a bunch of unruly adolescents with their hormones, adults with their pride and Wolverine with his animal flavored man-pain. That smile practically induced guilt, terror, and affection in equal measure.

It was damn terrifying.

Charles was now showing teeth. Deadpool, the manly man that he was, knew it was time to throw in the towel and run like a coward. Low chuckles followed him out the office as he bolted towards the front door. There was no way Deadpool was staying in the room with THE telepath reading all his juicy, errant thoughts. Professor X probably had blackmail for  _ years _ .

“Fuck you Professor X.” Creepy Fuck who didn’t help at all. “And you too Magneto” was shouted as he passed the metal bender in the hallway.

Deadpool was halfway off the grounds grumbling about enigmatic, wheelchair-bound mutants who could have hardened mercenaries shitting their pants and calling for mommy when he heard a voice in his head. 

“I know Harry. He will appreciate some effort and something more intimate. Flowers and homemade dinner should suffice. Maybe a movie.”

“...I love you, you cuddly cuddlebug you. Even if you’re stalker level creep.” The chuckle following Wade’s statement was definite proof of the professor’s creepy.

It was only after fighting with a housewife for the last of the jalapeno peppers, mowing down that bystander customer with his cart (let people pass motherfucker! Stop staring at the same sauce selection for 15 minutes and stay out the middle of the aisle!!) for a sparkling wine “with a good amount of fruit,” a white wine “with a full body and fruit-forward nature,” and an old German Riesling to go with the Mexican themed food he was making, (thank you Carla Rzeszewski and Arthur Hon) and crying over the poor selection of cilantro at Wholefoods before going over to that Farmer’s Market with all the freshest bestest stuff, that he realized Charles knew his date. Like _knew _knew him, enough to give advice on what Harry would like. Deadpool wasn’t sure what to do with that information...

Moving on. 

Deliberate later. 

The cashier was giving him “Hurry-up-there’re-people-behind-you, OMFG-you’re-Deadpool-can-I-have-your-autograph-but-you’re-holding-up-the-line-buster-so move-with-a-purpose” faces. There were some pretty peeved faces behind him too. Oops. Never get in the way of New Yorkers in a grocery line trying to get home. Never ends well. So, he quickly paid and skipped home.

After Wade’s illustrious career as a sometimes hero had taken off, he was finally able to afford that condo at the Pierhouse at Brooklyn Bridge Park he had his eye on. The N1007 floor plan had been calling his name and making dirty _dirty_ promises in his ear until Deadpool just couldn’t take it anymore. He may or may not have been caught whispering sweet nothings and caressing the entrance door but was able to get away without being detained by security. Good thing too, because a few years later he could finally afford the place. It had the best view with a rooftop terrace and 5 bedrooms, three of which he transformed into armories for his big boy toys and one he transformed for his BIG Boy Toys. It was great...except for when he had guests who needed a room...which was like, never, but still! Oh well, that’s what pull-out couches were for. Luckily, Wade was smart enough to put in false doors and walls to not scare away his nonexistent guests. He’d have to introduce his date to his toys and Toys in the future...hopefully. 

Wade dropped his groceries on the kitchen island and quickly put on his cooking playlist, waiting for the first tones of “Ice Ice Baby” before he set to dicing the tomatoes and onions for the homemade Pico. He chopped some cilantro, threw it in the with some lime juice and his special homemade smoked salt and pepper before putting it in the fridge to sit. Now for the main portions of the meal. Wade cracked his knuckles. It was time to get  _ doooowwwwn good lord. Baby got 'em open all over town. Strictly biz, she don't play around. Cover much grounds, got game by the pound _ .

Wade gasped. Damn this was his  _ jam _ !!

_ Getting paid is her forte _ _   
_ _ Each and every day, true player way. _

The Antihero slid across his kitchen with his super slippery socks for his secret seasoning to pound into the chicken, beef, and goat meat he had bought. He wasn't sure what beautiful Harry, would eat so might as well go big. Wade was going to do fish too but the selections were subpar at best. Should've went to Costco.

_ I can't get her out of my mind (wow). _

Wade spun and hit ‘em with a Michael Jackson style kick and scream.

_ I think about the girl all the time (wow wow). _

“Shout out to all the sexy ladies!!!!”

...Whoops! Way too much fun and not enough time. Focus on the food Wilson. Focus on the food. He quickly slid back to the meat and proceeded to season the shit out of it. He hated when people cooked food without taste. Cause hello, salt and pepper alone does NOT mean your food is seasoned. At least put some garlic and onion in there. 

He stuck a spoon into a boiling pot and tasted a rice grain. Good, rice was done cooking. Time to whip up some cilantro rice. 

Wade was distracted 4 more times by the Thong Song, Push It, Carry Out (because Justin Timberlake and Timbaland is just yes!!!!) and Bicycle Ride (Soca Remix) cause Soca just does things to his hips before he completely finished dinner.

Wade may or may not have caught himself before he truly jammed out to Shape of 

You, Eung Freestyle (fucking k-rap bitches, get wit dat shit) and Bang Bang Bang (k-pop motherfuckers, get wit dat shit too). It's a good thing he had the foresight to take all his Spanish music off his Kitchen Playlist. There’d be exactly zero work done if Salsa or Reggaeton blasted over his speakers. It was just in time too since Harry was at his front door, ringing the bell. The illustrious Superhero for Occasional Hire resisted the urge to squeal “He’s here, he’s really here!” before skipping to the door. One breath, Wilson. Two breaths, Wilson. It’s showtime.

Harry was standing in front of him with a black dress shirt that accentuated his shoulders and the buttery smooth completion of his skin. The shirt tapered in as it followed his torso down to those delectable hips before tucking into some black straight leg pants that looked tailored for those legs alone. Deadpool would like to be stepped on by those legs.

“You know you’re speaking out loud right? What’s it mean to have a buttery smooth complexion? And there needs to be a few more dates before I step on you.” Harry said with a smirk.

Right control yourself Wade. Good first impressions. Also, do not jump the guy in the doorway.

“Uh, I’m going to plead the fifth ‘cause my mind is a maze of snakes and ladders. Welcome to my humble abode. I made dinner, mexican style, and I bought wine.” 

His date just shook his head, chuckled and entered the house. Wade was like, sooooo excited this was happening right now, like, uggh, like teenage girls went crazy for One Direction type of excited.

“Well it looks like great minds think alike because I brought wine as well.”

Harry lifted the bottle wrapped in that nice plastic reserved for bouquets and tied with a ribbon. 

Aw, his British guy was so thoughtful. Alcohol was the sixth way into a Wade Wilson’s heart. 

“You’re welcome I guess.” Harry looked terribly amused….like Wade had just said that out loud. Damn it. He really needed to get these weird uncontrollable lips under control so he didn’t look like more of a fool. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve met weirder people. Trust me. You’re not even top 7.”

...Bad Deadpool wanted to test how weird he needed to be to get to at least Top 2. Good Deadpool Russian Suplexed the fuck out of Bad Deadpool because they were on a date with someone they were not trying to scare away.

“Uh, yeah. Come in. I made chile rellenos as an appetizer, chicken tostadas with beans, avocado, lettuce and salsa, Pinto Bean pasta salad,  yellow rice and goat and beef enchiladas. Oh and there’s salad too.”

His date followed him into his informal dining area in front of his kitchen. It had a beautiful view over the East River. 

“Were you expecting to feed an army?”

Wade looked at the table with it’s luxurious spread of food. In retrospect it was a lot, not including the desert he bought in the fridge and freezer. The table was making some interesting groaning noises. 

“This way I can send you home with a plate, forget to add something and make you come back to get it, convince you to stay the night and then make you breakfast in bed?”

Harry chuckled. 

“Or you could just ask me out on a second date. Don’t you want to take off your mask? It’d be hard to eat with it on.”

Okay, this was a softball. Answer the question Wade, truthfully and without a long line of what weird things mated together to produce your face. 

“Ah, well I was kinda in an illegal government experiment to create mutants. I kinda look like a 3rd degree burn victim all over. Like a pink turtle shell.”

Mostly nailed that. Work harder Wilson! Because Harry was staring again in shock. Running Harry off is not the goal.

The other man blinked a few times then shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like the ugliest thing I’ve seen so I won’t mind if you take off your mask. But if you aren’t comfortable yet then that’s okay.” 

Harry smiled a beautifully, encouraging smile and Deadpool melted just a little bit. It was nice that Harry didn't care but it was also strange that he may have seen uglier things than a pink turtle shell face. 

“I’m not top for weirdness and I am not even on the list for ugly? I mean you haven’t seen this face yet so cool your jets mister! I don’t know whether to be offended or to work hard at being at least top five in these categories.”

Harry laughed. “You are a silly man Mr. Wilson. You can work on being in my top five weird if you like.”

Bad Deadpool had almost tapped out of the match until he heard that challenge from Harry. Good Deadpool was quickly put into a headlock right before the bell rang. Round two was coming up and Bad Deadpool now had permission to kick Good Deadpool’s ass. 

“Actually, I have a question. I got advice for this date from someone we both know and I was wondering...how do you know  _ the _ Telepath, Grand Master X?”

Harry smirked. 

“Ah. Hmm, I’ll tell you over dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But just so you know what happened in the office afterwards…  
_______________________________________________________________
> 
> Erik stared after the running nutcase in bemusement before turning and making his way to Charles’s office. He raised an eyebrow at the professor. 
> 
> “I told you. More than a few screws loose on that one.”
> 
> Charles shook his head in amusement.
> 
> “No, this time was strictly my fault.”
> 
> Erik wasn’t sure that was true. No matter what, that Deadpool character was a crazy maniac worthy of an institution. 
> 
> “What did he want and what did you do?”
> 
> “Advice and I smiled.”
> 
> Charles once again smiled.
> 
> “Ah...That smile. You let him in for entertainment don’t you?”
> 
> “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”


End file.
